For the Love of a Hero
by MostDefinitelyFlorentine
Summary: *Originally Chapter 1 of The 100 Themes Challenge* Calypso one-shot on her feelings after Percy leaves. The author does NOT ship Perlypso, by the way.


For the Love of a Hero

Darkness was falling rapidly upon Ogygia, but even the black of night could not compare to a certain girl's sadness. Calypso was still mourning the demigod that came to her and left far too soon. Her heart ached for Percy Jackson.

She missed the way he talked in his sleep, recounting many adventures and murmuring obscure prophecies. She missed the way he gazed at her, like she meant everything and nothing. She missed the uncertain way he would hold her hand at night as they watched the moonlace bloom. Calypso languished in heartbreak and some other emotion that she couldn't pin down, a feeling that made her want to get up and sock the gods in a sensitive spot.

This shocked her, though—even on her island prison, she worshipped the gods as she had done for eons, and would not hesitate to fight next to them in the war that would be sure to come. Her brains seemed addled with all the confusion that was running through them, so she thought it best to wait before doing anything she might regret.

She heaved the sorrowful sigh that came whenever she thought of Percy. She was sitting on a chunk of rock and watching the invisible servants clean up after dinner, which was a somber event without Percy. He'd left just a few days ago, speaking of quests and war, as well as family and friends that he had to return to. Calypso knew this was coming. She knew it from the moment he (literally) fell out of the sky and into her welcoming arms, but still she could not help herself from giving him her heart, even though she was aware of the fact that he would be giving it back before long.

She felt the cold knife being inserted into her heart when she remembered her punishment for helping her father in the Titan War—to be exiled to a secluded island with only invisible slaves to do her bidding. This hadn't seemed like such a harsh punishment, until the first hero had come along.

She didn't like to think of him, but at some times she could not herself. He was beautiful, with a smile that lit up the morning better than the rising sun. But he, too, left her.

The full cruelty of her banishment came to her as the next hero departed Ogygia. It was then that she realized the extent of it—always to remain forever lonely, because whoever came to her would always leave, no matter how much they wanted to stay.

Percy, though, was one she knew she would never forget as long as she lived, which would undoubtedly be too long. He'd held her gaze the same way a majestic mountain or a newborn child did; it was simply impossible to tear her away.

She could hear the cracking noise of her breaking heart when Percy said he must leave. He'd only been gone since this morning, but Calypso felt that he had never truly been with her. He spoke of a girl that he had left behind, a daughter of Athena with curly blonde hair and wise gray eyes. Percy loved this girl, and that is the main reason why he left.

Calypso could not bring herself to feel spiteful or bitter towards his Annabeth, because anything that made Percy happy would be enough for her. Still, her longing extended across the lake and into the world, no doubt reaching him wherever he was.

She found herself, for the first time in millennia, doubting the gods. Was her punishment truly fair? She was a child during the war, and a child's primary loyalty is to its parents. It was only the ignorance of a young lady to stand by the wrongdoing of her family.

Calypso watched the sun dip below the water, feeling empty inside. Where to go from then? Was she to simply wait for the next lost and confused demigod to appear? What wrenching form of heartbreak would she experience next?

She stood, growing tired of wallowing in self-pity. She resigned herself to the fact that that was how it was, and it was never going to change. Just when she was about to go to bed, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"A-hem," it said. "Hello again, Calypso."

This was the only thing she had to look forward to—brief, occasional visits from Hermes bringing news from Olympus. "Greetings, Lord Hermes," she said downheartedly, making a bad attempt at masking her sorrow. She turned around, facing the God of Travelers in his usual tracksuit, this time in purple.

The daughter of Atlas fought hard to contain her anger—she would not push a god. Hermes seemed to understand her troubled heart, though, and with a kind face gestured for her to be seated on the beach.

"I know how hard this must be for you, Calypso," he started, "but—"

Now she could not help her fury from exploding out of her. "Oh, you know, do you? You think you understand how this must feel? Every time I fall in love with one of your heroes, he is so callously taken away from me, never to be seen again! How do you suppose—" she stopped herself. _Oh my_, she thought, _I just interrupted and disrespected a god! _

She covered her mouth with both hands, shocked at her own harsh words, expecting to be incinerated on the spot. But that wasn't what Hermes did at all. His expression softened as he looked at her, reflecting the pain in her eyes.

"I—I apologize, Lord Hermes," she stuttered, but he held up his hand for silence. She shut up. "Don't be sorry. As hard as it may be to believe, I do know how you feel, and I too think that your punishment was unfair, but I have no control over such things. I come bearing news."

She perked up ever so slightly. Hopefully the news would be good, or she would not be able to live with herself. "Percy Jackson arrived safely back to Camp Half-Blood," he said, much to Calypso's relief, "but Kronos's forces grow stronger by the day, and I fear that time may be running out for our half-blood heroes." Calypso gasped, filled with a feeling of dread. Hermes's voice now contained a hint of foreboding.

Calypso averted her gaze from the god and instead looked out onto the dark water. She could not bear it if Percy or any of his friends died—it'd simply be too much.

"Well," she said, "Perhaps after a bit of time I'll be able to forget about him," though she knew that this would never be true. "Maybe if you ceased to bring news of him, it would help."

"But I must," said Hermes, shuffling nervously, "He is a part of your destiny, someone who you must never forget, no matter how much it hurts."

She didn't understand this, and it showed on her face. "How could he be tied to me if I'm never going to see him again?"

"There are exceptions to every rule," he began uneasily—she could have sworn she saw the snakes on his caduceus twitch—and continued, "The story of Percy Jackson is not over yet. If Kronos is indeed defeated, then his story will go on."

Calypso looked at him bemusedly. "I still don't…"

"What I'm trying to say is," he said, growing ever more flustered, "that you haven't seen the last of Percy Jackson."

It was as if you'd dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. "You mean…"

"I have to go," said Hermes, getting up and shaking the sand off his pants. "According to Martha and George, I still have 72 voicemails and 1,956 emails to answer. My time here is up."

And with that, he vanished unceremoniously into thin air, leaving a confused but excited Calypso behind.

That night, as Calypso climbed into bed, she was in possession of something that we call hope—yes, hope, which would keep her dreaming of Percy until they met again. She drifted off to sleep with peace of mind, and slept the entire night, as she had never done before. She did not forget about Percy, son of Poseidon, but instead kept the memory of his time on Ogygia alive in the special section of her garden dedicated to him that was filled with nothing but moonlace.

Each day after Hermes's visit, she thought of what she would say to him when they met, and what he would say to her. Some may call it obsession, but to others it is simply love.

Calypso wondered if he would still have feelings for her, or if he had found happiness with the girl called Annabeth. Either way, all she wanted was to see him again and for him to be happy.

There are many people who would not grasp this desire—those are the people who have not experienced love. Not love for family or friends, but love in its purest form. The love that makes you sacrifice everything, that causes you to want to walk a thousand miles or swim the greatest ocean just for them.

Calypso felt this, and she knew that she would do anything for the love of a hero.


End file.
